December 22, 2021 — Bruchim’s Max DuBoff shares a d’var Torah for this week’s parasha, Sh’mot. The passage discussed contains the following enigmatic and confusing episode:
And it came to pass by the way in the inn that the Lord met him and sought to kill him. Then Zippora took a sharp stone and cut off the foreskin of her son and threw it at his feet, and said, “Surely a bridegroom of blood are you to me.” So he let him go, then she said, “A bridegroom of blood you are, because of the circumcision.” (Exodus 4:24-26) Watch here!
Sh’mot 4:24-26 D’var Torah Transcript
Hi, I’m Max DuBoff. Let’s talk about a baffling and fascinating passage about circumcision from this week’s parasha, Sh’mot, or Exodus. As Moshe, with his wife Tzipporah and son Gershom, has just left for Egypt to deliver God’s message to Pharaoh, Chapter 4, verses 24-26 reads: “At a night encampment on the way, the LORD encountered him and sought to kill him. / So Tzipporah took a flint and cut off her son’s foreskin, and touched his legs with it, saying, ‘You are truly a bridegroom of blood to me!’ / And when He let him alone, she added, ‘A bridegroom of blood because of the circumcision.’” Although there are many puzzles here which commentators debate—including whether Moshe or Gershom is actually being targeted, why, whose legs are touched, and what a bridegroom of blood means—I want to draw two lessons from this story, concerning violence, and cultural norms, which should impact our understanding of circumcision. We will see, as a through line, the importance of intentionality for our actions as Jews. We have great power as Jews and beyond, which we must use well and think deeply about.
First, let’s talk about violence. This story includes violence both because God seeks to kill someone, and because it foregrounds blood. This is the first connection in the Torah between circumcision and blood. Blood later became an important part of the ritual; circumcision must traditionally draw blood, and even Jews by choice who are already circumcised must traditionally undergo hatafat dam b’rit, drawing a drop of blood from the penis. Blood symbolizes life and death in a visceral way, preserving us, but also flowing out when we are hurt.
The violence in this story, of death threats and blood, spotlights the violence that circumcision can entail. We first saw violence connected to circumcision in Genesis 34, where the sons of Ya’akov trick the Hivites into circumcising themselves, so that Shim’on and Levi can kill the Hivites as revenge for Sh’chem’s rape of Dinah. But here in Exodus is the first time the circumcision itself is violent, and that’s a big transition. The first circumcisions in Genesis, beginning with Genesis 17, seem peaceful, but as the generations go by we see a darker underbelly emerge to circumcision, which prompts us to think about violence in our current society, and relating to current circumcision practices.
This idea of violence can help us understand the most puzzling phrase in the story, chatan damim, a bridegroom of blood, which Tzipporah says. So many of our practices as Jews and in our broader society have potential for good and evil. Marriage can be beautiful, loving, and healthy, or it can be a source of pain. We don’t know much about Tzipporah or her and Moshe’s marriage, but we do know from Exodus 18:2 that at some point Moses sent her away. It’s tempting to see a rift between them epitomized by this violent act of circumcision that she must perform to avert divine wrath.
Having explored violence in this story, let’s think about the impact of cultural norms. Many traditional commentators from the Talmud on take it as obvious that Moshe knew he should circumcise and yet failed to; they want a reason he didn’t circumcise his son originally. But the most likely interpretation is that it didn’t occur to him, because his society didn’t practice infant circumcision. Cultural norms not to circumcise can provide the sort of reason commentators have sought. However, God wants Moshe not to follow those around him, and makes that point even by threatening death.
The context of the narrative highlights the cultural norms that explain why Gershom is not already circumcised, and how circumcision deliberately bucks cultural norms. Just before, in verses 22-23, God says to Moshe: “Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says the LORD: Israel is My first-born son. / I have said to you, “Let My son go, that he may worship Me,” yet you refuse to let him go. Now I will slay your first-born son.’” The slaying of the first-born, the tenth plague, will be Pharaoh’s punishment for not letting the Israelites, God’s son, go so that they can worship God. This story in verses 24-26, then, is about God dealing death on account of Moshe’s son. Circumcision spares Gershom from the fate of the Egyptian first-born. In this dichotomy of Israelites and Egyptians, Gershom is marked as an Israelite by circumcision. It is important to this story that circumcision is not pro forma, something a parent allows because of inertia. Circumcision is presented in our text as a resounding commitment to God and to Israelite peoplehood, as symbolized by the Exodus.
A major lesson of this story is to reject attitudes about circumcision, either for or against, that are based on common cultural norms. Although the circumcision in this story is not performed with intention, it represents something big, which cannot be achieved today without intention. So we must be intentional about circumcision. This story, like others in Tanakh such as the circumcision of the Israelites in Joshua 5 prior to the invasion of Canaan, challenges us to think more deeply about why and how we do or don’t circumcise. Are we merely following cultural norms, or do our attitudes on circumcision fit meaningfully into our Jewish life and values?
We have discussed two aspects of this enigmatic story from Exodus 4, violence and cultural norms. As Jews, we must focus on building healthy relationships, treating everyone with the respect they deserve. Equally, we must think hard about what makes us Jewish, really. It’s not circumcision, but it is our membership in k’lal Yisrael, the community of Jews spanning space and time. My blessing for us all is that we deepen our relationship with Judaism and Jews over the coming week, thinking about circumcision among many other important issues. For more resources and perspectives on circumcision, visit https://bruchim.online.
